She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier,” she said. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. "And you will answer it frankly?" "Certainly. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said.
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